


Doggy Paddle

by HanginWithLilJ (FlyDizzeeD)



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Humor, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyDizzeeD/pseuds/HanginWithLilJ
Summary: Ethan is home alone. Spencer looks bored. They make the best of it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Doggy Paddle

It’s an unusual day.

No videos to film. Nothing urgent to edit. No business calls with managers. It’s just a very lazy Sunday, and Ethan doesn’t even know what to do with himself. Mark and Amy offer him to go to the grocery store with them, but his head feels a bit fuzzy and the world a bit sharp so he passes. A grocery store sounds like sensory hell at the moment. Amy presses a kiss to his cheek as the two head out the door, the quiet closing click leaving Ethan to his own devices.

He turns back to see two dogs already gazing up at him. Chica huffs, clearly annoyed by Mark’s departure, and walks off to her bed in the living room. Spencer, on the other hand, stays looking at him. 

“Hey, Spence. Today’s real boring, huh?”

The pup’s tail wags. Ethan hums and moves to the kitchen. A snack sounds good. Amy would probably chide him about making a real lunch if she was home. But… she isn’t. Neither of them are. Some dangerous little light flickers inside him. He bites his lip as he looks to the freezer. There’s an untouched tub of rocky road in there. He feels a crackling across his skin as the excitement of rule breaking rises in him. Small pops of electric tension. A laugh bubbles out of him, firmly outside of his control, and spreads a wide grin on his face.

His hands shake just slightly as he pulls a spoon out of a drawer and opens the freezer, a mixture of minor manic energy and mischief making his fingers stumble. He carefully pulls the ice cream container out of the fridge and carries it with him to the couch. Some small part of him feels guilty risking eating ice cream on Mark’s nice couch, but most of his brain is too focused on the TV. _Mr. Popper’s Penguins_ is just starting as he takes a seat, burrowing into one of the soft corners of the couch. Spencer wastes no time in hopping up to curl up next to him, eyeing his treat.

“Puppies can’t have ice cream, Spencer.”

The Aussie mix tilts his head. Ethan sighs.

“No, not even a taste.”

With a dramatic huff, Spencer flops his head back onto his boy’s lap. Ethan chuckles and pats his head before turning his attention back to the TV just in time to watch some silly penguin waddle about. His head feels a bit less loud. It’s nice. He settles in with his movie and his ‘lunch’, his free hand rubbing one of Spencer’s soft ears.

—-

Peace can’t last forever, of course. Not in Ethan’s brain.

He’s fidgeting by the time the movie ends. His body feels all wound up like a spring, but he’s committed to the movie and his heart rate gets a little jumpy at the idea of not finishing it. The second the credits roll, however, he’s hopping to his feet with a relieved sigh. He runs a hand across his face, through his already messy hair, and back around to his mouth so he can chew hard once, twice, three times on his index finger before wiping it off on his shirt.

“Traffic must be bad.” He says, looking back at Spencer and Chica, the latter of whom had joined them on the couch. He continues in spite of the lack of a response.

“Bored. Head feels— wanna go outsi’?”

The question comes out in a rush as he realizes a potential solution to his problem. Both dogs recognize the phrase and jump off the couch, knocking the mostly empty ice cream tub on its side and heading right for the back door with excitedly prancing paws. Ethan laughs at the noisy puppy tap dance and follows quickly behind them, sliding open the door and joining them in the sunny backyard.

The sun is starting its slow descent into the far off valley, leaving the patio warm and just peeking past the surrounding foliage. It makes Chica’s fur a warm honey shade that Ethan runs his hands through lovingly when the dog wanders over for some attention. His eyes find the glinting surface of the pool next. Crystal clear down to the light blue bottom. The cool water promises relief from the slowly setting rays of the California sun. And far be it from Ethan to claim freedom from easy influence. His feet are already bare, toes wriggling against the warm patio. In moments his mind is made and his shirt is coming off, albeit with some slight struggle. His shorts are just an old pair of Mark’s, the strings pulled tight as can be to stay up on his waist. They can stay on.

“Wanna swim, Spence?”

Chica is a lost cause, he knows this. Might as well focus his attention where it stands a chance. Spencer comes bounding over at the sound of his name, watching Ethan as he slowly and carefully walks down the steps into the pool.

“Mark said no jumpin’.” He explains to the pooch as he steps into the shallow side of the long pool, looking back to see if the little herding dog has followed him. He groans.

“Spencer! Swimmin’! ‘s hot, Spence, doncha wanna cool down?”

Evidently not, given the way he trots right off to join Chica in the shade under the nearby table. With some grumbling, Ethan moves further into the water. The way it laps at his skin as he does deeper feels strange and welcoming. Like the water wants him here. He giggles at the thought of the pool calling out to him. Mark would call him silly. Amy would say he’s very Ethan. His feet slip slightly on the slick floor of the pool as he moves beyond where his toes can reach the bottom. He starts to actually swim and turns to look at his doggy companions. They seem pretty content just watching his antics. He calls for their attention anyway.

“Watch! This is— when you guys swim it’s like this.” He says, before demonstrating the doggy paddle maneuver for their judgment. Given their relaxed panting and keen ears, he assumes his showing must be pretty accurate. He whoops in celebration and has to catch himself before his head dips under the water. The water is cool and nice on his skin, but he doesn’t think he wants his face wet right now. It sounds like too much. Instead he shows off a bit more of his doggy paddle prowess to his adoring audience before making his way back to the steps. Traffic is always bad, sure, but Mark and Amy should be home soon. He wants to help take the groceries inside. Mark always seems a bit proud when they can do it in one trip. Spencer is waiting for him at the steps, just his front paws in the water. He gives the dog some wet headpats as he steps onto dry land.

It’s at this point that he hears a car pull in the driveway. The dogs both start barking, ready to protect him from some violent intruder. The car turns off and he hears doors open and close as he in turn opens the back door to let himself and the dogs back inside. They bum rush the door. He isn’t far behind, and it swings open just as he makes it there. It’s second nature for him to flash Amy a huge grin as soon as he sees her.

“Welcome home!”

He really wants to hug her. The urge is almost painful. He hasn’t felt this small in a while, now that he realizes what the feeling is, and he _really_ wants to hug Amy but her arms are full of bags and he’s—

“Oh, Eef, buddy, you’re soaking wet.”

That.

The door opens a bit wider with some grumbling as Mark steps in beside Amy, asking why she’s just standing there when his gaze follows hers and meets the actively dripping boy standing in the front room. Ethan’s fists clench his wet shorts, wringing them further onto the floor as he anxiously awaits some kind of telling off.

“Ethan, were you in the pool?” Mark sounds far more confused than angry. He’s about to answer when another question from Amy interrupts him.

“How old are you right now, baby?”

“Um,” he pauses as he tries to place a number to it, “three I think?”

They both sigh before stepping the rest of the way into the house, Mark shutting the door behind him. Ethan whines at the one trip goal Briton so quickly destroyed. He whines louder when Mark uses his serious voice.

“And you were in the pool by yourself?”

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to answer. He doesn’t really wanna answer. He glances behind himself like there’s someone back there to take the blame for him, but instead his gaze lands on the water path leading from the back door to himself. Oh. Whoops. One of his index fingers slides back into his mouth as he chews at it with a ferocity, very slowly turning his eyes back to the other two. Mark continues.

“That’s not safe, buddy. Something could've happened, and nobody would’ve been here to help you.” 

“Spencer and Chica…”

“Are doggies, bud. They can’t save you.”

He hates when Mark’s right. Still avoiding direct eye contact, he mumbles an apology. Thankfully he isn’t asked to speak up, because he thinks his voice probably isn’t a very big boy voice right now. The A/C from the house is also starting to cool down his wet skin and shorts, drawing a shiver out of him. Gentle fingers card through his hair.

“Go dry off and get changed. Mark and I can handle the groceries. Careful up the stairs, baby boy.”

He nods, still having to fight the urge not to wrap himself around Amy like an octopus. Instead he turns around and tries to strike a balance between hurrying and being careful as he heads upstairs to do as requested. His skin feels clammy, so the idea of nice warm clothes is a promising one. He skips “his” room and heads straight for Mark and Amy’s. It’s quick work to dry himself off with one of the bath towels and change into a different pair of baggy shorts and one of Mark’s hoodies. He spots one of his chew necklaces on a bedside table from the last time he was small and slept in their bed. Nabbing it and sliding it on, he heads back downstairs. Maybe now he can have a hug.

No such luck.

“Here, Eef, try to clean up the water, okay?”

He accepts the mop and bites down hard on his chew, fighting himself to not stomp his way back over to the water trail. By the time he’s done cleaning it up, the groceries are put away and Mark and Amy have gone to the living room. Excitement starts to build up all over again as he puts the mop back in the utility closet and pads into the living room.

“All done. No more water.”

“Very good, Ethan! Wanna come sit with—“

Ethan doesn’t let Amy finish before he’s flung himself onto the couch and wormed his way in between them. He clings onto her, burying his face into her neck and inhaling the citrus scent of her shampoo. He can feel the vibrations of her laugh.

“Missed us?”

“Uh huh.”

There’s a kiss pressed into his hair shortly before Mark murmurs into his ear;

“Missed our boy, too. Even when he eats an entire tub of ice cream and tracks water in the house.”

A blush spreads across Ethan’s face, shortly followed by a burst of muffled laughter. He pulls away from Amy just enough to look back at Mark, eyes filled with pure adoration.

“That was Spencer ‘n Chica.”

“Oh? Was it?”

“Yeah!”

All three of them look over at the pair of pooches, who in turn look thoroughly unimpressed by Ethan’s accusations. Mark hums and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“I even miss him when he lies and blames the dogs.”

At that, Ethan finally dissolves into a fit of giggles, worsened by Amy’s dastardly tickling on his stomach and sides. He shrieks and wriggles about, beyond happy to be stuck between his two very favorite people.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m branching out.


End file.
